


Drunken Diplomacy

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-31
Updated: 2008-01-31
Packaged: 2018-10-27 08:18:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10805304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: While on a diplomatic visit, Sirius and Hermione both give in to drunken impulses. Just some fluffy smut (with hopefully a bit of humor).





	Drunken Diplomacy

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

(Originally posted on 11/11/06)

This was written quite a while back for a LJ fic exchange. And yeah, Sirius is clearly alive. I don’t know how or why. I guess you just can’t kill off a character that hot.   


* * *

This could not get worse. What was supposed to be a somewhat routine diplomatic trip for the Ministry was turning into a sheer nightmare. Okay, so maybe _nightmare_ was a bit of an exaggeration. But as Hermione literally staggered under the additional weight she was loaded with as she made her way though the maze of shifting hallways of the castle, desperately looking for the correct room, it was the best word she could come up with. Her heart raced as she looked at the doors, all of which perversely looked the same to her. She knew that she was getting panicky, and had to calm herself down. Out of breath, she had to stop and rearrange the dead weight collapsed on her, sighing loudly as she also tried to brush some of her hair out of her face. “Why’d we stop?” an overly loud and slightly juicy voice interrupted her.  
  
She furiously glared at her burden for daring to question her. “You try doing this in a dress robe and heels!” she hissed at one ridiculously inebriated Sirius Black, all the while trying to get into a better position, pulling his arm higher around her bare shoulders. As soon as she said it, she regretted it, for his face immediately took on a contrite expression. She sighed. Loudly. _The wounded puppy face. Just fantastic. Super. Really._ “I’m so sorry Hermione, I didn’t mean to make you mad,” he gushed as he engulfed her in a bear hug, slapping her back with enough force to make her gasp. He pulled away from her and looked at her face for a moment before he broke into a huge smile. “I like your earrings. They’re so _shiny_!” With that, he proceeded to sway dangerously, and Hermione had to grab him by the front of his shirt before he fell completely over.  
  
Hermione gave a loud groan and went back to trying to half-lead, half-drag him back to his room. _Why_ did the blasted hallways have to switch _so often_? The stairs at Hogwarts were a breeze to master compared to this ridiculous Polish castle that the summit had been housed in. She practically cried in relief when she finally recognized a tapestry and knew that they were near her own room. She only hoped no one would see them like this: her hair an even wilder mess than usual, her face flushed, and obviously out of breath. And him? His dress robes were flapping about, his shirt was untucked, he was leaning all over her, and now he appeared to be sniffing her. Seriously. Sniffing her neck. “You smell good!” he brightly announced.  
  
Ugh. Like she didn’t have enough problems without a tall, ridiculously good-looking man nuzzling her neck. Yes, there was a problem there. Somewhere.   
  
She shook her head to clear her thoughts and focus on getting him into his room without being seen by anyone. If someone from the British Ministry team came upon them, it would be embarrassing, certainly, but at least she could get some help. But if it were one of the others… She groaned at just _thinking_ about the talking to both of them would receive from Minister Scrimgeour.  
  
All in all, it was a situation that Hermione would much rather avoid all together. Of course, it _could_ have been avoided entirely, if Sirius had just used a little common sense. “Just what the hell was in that bloody drink, anyway?” she demanded, but before he could answer—as if she had really expected him to—she found herself miraculously standing in front of her room.   
  
“Thank God!” she exclaimed before quickly whispering the password to the dryad that was carved into the heavy oak door. With almost the last bit of her energy, she dragged Sirius into the room and to the bed. Pondering for a moment first, she turned them both around, backing them against the bed, and then simply dropped him onto it. She was stunned to find that he actually looked comfortable, laying there with his legs dangling over the edge. She was tempted to leave him like that, but at the memory of him sniffing her neck, her heart relented a bit. She somehow managed to get him to drag himself completely onto the bed, and she even went so far as to take off his shoes for him. “C’mon, Snuffles,” she murmured as she tugged at the outer coat of his dress robe, “let’s get you out of this.” She climbed onto the bed with him, rolling her eyes at how plastered he was, when he suddenly reached out and grabbed her to his prone body.   
  
“Sirius Black!” she yelled, losing any semblance of patience with him. First she had to watch him flirt with just about every single woman at the reception. Then he had drank that foul smelling ale that the Woodgoblins were partial to. A drink that _everyone else_ from the British contingency had the good sense to avoid. Of course, it was then that he seemed to forget that _married_ women were perhaps not the safest targets of his smile. And also forgetting that perhaps it wasn’t the best of situations when the wife of the Polish Minister of Magic became a little _too_ happy to flirt back with him. Well, at that point a slightly mortified Hermione had been forced to act quickly. She had basically pulled him out of the ballroom and practically dragged him down the halls before he could cause a major diplomatic incident.   
  
And now this? Being smashed against his chest? There was a problem there, too. She was sure of it. She may not have been able to identify it _at the moment_ , but that didn’t mean that it didn’t exist. Clearly, he deserved to suffer. No magical hangover remedies for him. And if that meant that she would personally have to destroy every bottle of _Siccario_ potion in the entire castle? Well, that would certainly teach him a lesson about getting hopelessly intoxicated and... and... _grabbing_ people. Yes. That would show him.   
  
Hermione could hear Sirius laughing as she tried to get off of him, but his arms were locked in place around her back. How could a man that drunk still be so strong? Was he sniffing her again? “Your hair smells good, too…” he drunkenly mumbled and Hermione could feel his grip in her relaxing. She let out a breath of relief, trying to remember that lying on top of him was a horrible thing, when he suddenly flipped over, trapping her beneath him. He then lowered his head. And kissed her. Her. A _kiss_. _He_ was kissing _her_.   
  
Hermione was so surprised that at first she had no reaction, but rather than push him off of her, she soon found herself wrapping her arms around him, pulling him in even closer. She couldn’t seem to help herself. His breath wasn’t nearly so awful as she might have thought after drinking that disgusting brew. And his lips were surprisingly soft. And surprisingly _not_ sloppily, drunkenly wet. In fact, they were rather perfect. And so she tilted her head a little more to the side and he kissed her even deeper, his tongue stroking her own until she moaned into his mouth and tangled her fingers into his tousled hair.  
  
At her moan he grinned against her lips. When he finally ended the kiss, he pulled his head away and she saw that his eyes looked a little clearer, a slow smile spreading on his lips, and he was staring into her flushed face. “You taste good too,” he announced. “I always imagined you would,” he continued, startling her for a moment with that admission, before falling back on her, this time kissing her neck and shoulders, eliciting more moans from her, before he suddenly stopped.  
  
It took Hermione a moment to figure out what was going on, but then she heard his quiet snores and realized he had fallen asleep on top of her. _This is not happening. No. It’s not. Oh my god, IT IS. It IS happening! This night was a bloody NIGHTMARE!_ After a few frustrated moments, she managed to get out from under him. Seeing that he was sprawled in the middle of her bed, she groaned. It was useless. The world was clearly conspiring against her. She took one of the pillows and sat on the chaise in her room with what could only be described as a defeated air. She shot one last glare at a snoring Sirius and then shook out her hair and threw her heels across the room (after having resisted the strong temptation to hurl them at his head). And then, not even bothering to change out of her dress robe, she made herself as comfortable as she could and fell asleep.  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
Sirius was steaming. It may have been a victory party for the Cannon’s latest win, but he certainly wasn’t in a party mood. What in the world did that witch think she was doing? One of Tonks’ co-workers was trying to chat him up, but he didn’t even spare the woman a glance. Instead, he was engrossed in watching a woman on the other side of the crowded pub laugh at some obviously lame joke an older wizard was telling her. Frustrated, the tarty magpie finally left him alone, only to be replaced by his pink-haired cousin herself. “Nice going, Sirius,” she laughed as she sat on the stool next to where he leaned against the bar. “Your reputation as a ladies man is well earned,” she teased as she dribbled a little beer down the front of her t-shirt when she took a gulp from her mug.  
  
Sirius finally tore his glare away from the object of his attention to throw a smirk at Tonks. “She was just so _obvious_ ,” he replied before looking back at the young witch who was _still_ laughing. “A man likes a bit of a challenge. When a woman is practically licking her lips it’s hardly attractive.”  
  
Tonks just let out a loud laugh. “Well, she’ll get over it fast enough,” she said flippantly. But then a wicked gleam entered her eyes as she continued. “Though, it might have been a little less painful if you could have stopped staring at Hermione for more than three seconds at a time.”  
  
At that, Sirius flinched and gave his full attention to Tonks. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Nymphadora.”  
  
Tonks just laughed again. “Whatever. Look, just do yourself a favor and go over there and talk to her. You’ve known her for forever. You’re not scared of her, are you?”  
  
When Sirius said nothing but simply looked away, Tonks’ eyebrows rose in disbelief. “You _are_ scared of her! Oh good lord, this is priceless! Big, bad, Sirius Black is too frightened to talk to a _girl_!”  
  
“Oh, shut it!” He growled at her, worried that someone might overhear. “I’m not frightened of her. And I don’t think of her like _that_ , either. It’s true!” He snapped at her disbelieving look. “It’s just that I might have been a bit of an ass during the summit,” he finally admitted, a bit sheepishly, if Sirius Black could be a bit sheepish.   
  
“Oh my god, what did you do?” Tonks breathed as a cloud of worry tinged her heart-shaped face.  
  
“Nothing like that! Or whatever you’re thinking! Or, at least… I’m pretty sure I didn’t. I think she would have said something. Yes, she would have said something. But I’m pretty sure I wasn’t on my best behavior, as she’s been a little out of sorts with me for almost a month now.”  
  
“So your solution is to stalk her in pubs?” his cousin asked him, her good humor quickly returning.  
  
Sirius just rolled his eyes. “I’m not _stalking_ her. I was invited here by Ron, just like you. I’m just looking out for her. I mean, look at her! She’s clearly been drinking too much. And she’s been talking to that jackass from Magical Patents for forever. And laughing. Laughing! Please. Like he’s ever said anything even remotely funny in his life!”  
  
Tonks just smirked at his huffy tone and looked over to where Hermione had been. “Well, looks like patent man is out of the picture. Who’s that she’s dancing with now?” she asked, watching her cousin out of the corner of her eye. “I think it may be the new Keeper that Ron managed to sign for the Cannons. Well, _he’s_ quite the player, and I’m not just talking about Quidditch, if you know what I mean. Got a bit of a reputation, that one. I didn’t know that Hermione fancied that type of—”  
  
“Excuse me, Tonks,” Sirius snarled, cutting her off as he pushed his way through the crowd towards the brunette in the back, before finally setting a hand on Hermione’s shoulder.  
  
“Sirius!” she exclaimed before throwing her arms around him in a rather pleasant hug. He was sure his eyes practically bugged out of his face at her welcome. She finally seemed to have forgiven him for whatever he had done during the summit. He couldn’t help but grin as she gave him a huge smile. “Oh Sirius, I’m so happy you’re here! So happy! You’re here!” she beamed at him, her face charmingly flushed.  
  
At that, the grin slipped off of his face. She was _drunk_. Not tipsy, or even slightly sloshed, but drunk as a skunk. Charmingly so, he had to admit—especially the way she kept grabbing on to him to keep her balance, as well as the way she was smiling at him, like she _really_ was happy to see him—but drunk nonetheless.  
  
“Have you met Liam?” she asked, gesturing to the tall blond man she had been dancing with. As Sirius looked at the young man—who looked a little slow in the head, he had instantly decided—Liam came closer and placed his hand on Hermione’s shoulder, pulling her decidedly towards him. Sirius’ eyes narrowed. “He’s the new Keeper for the Cannons,” Hermione continued, oblivious. “Keeper for the Cannons!” Hermione giggled. _Giggled_. Sirius was in shock. “Keeper, Cannons! Keeper has a ‘k’ and Cannons has a ‘c’ but they sound the same!”  
  
Before she could go onto another round of drunken phonics, Sirius pulled her away from the blond gorilla’s grasp. “It’s late Hermione,” he announced, more tersely than he intended. “You should get home. I’ll take you.”   
  
And with that, he pulled her tight to him and Apparated them both to the sitting room of her flat.  
  
“Oooooh,” Hermione mumbled, her face buried in his chest. “That made my stomach feel funny.”  
  
Sirius just smiled at her sad tone and gently pulled her chin up to look her in the eyes. “You’ll be fine soon,” he reassured her as soothingly as he could.  
  
She just stared up at him and her brown eyes twinkled. “Feeling better already,” she whispered back before wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a kiss right on his lips.  
  
Sirius stood in shock as he felt her lips on his. _This isn’t right… She’s 20 years younger than you! Okay, that part’s pretty great, actually. NO! Not right! She’s your godson’s best friend, for goodness sakes! Good god, her lips are soft. But she’s drunk! You’re taking advantage of her! Fuck, is that her tongue?_  
  
And at that point, Sirius grabbed her and kissed her back. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him so that she was lifted up onto her toes. She moaned into his mouth and tilted her head so that she could do a thorough job of running her tongue along his. At the feel of her tongue in his mouth, Sirius felt lust run through his body. Without thinking, he picked up her small frame and practically tossed her onto the sofa, quickly covering her body with his own as he ravaged her mouth with hot and deep kisses.  
  
Why did this feel so right? He wondered. She kissed him like she was made for him, as if they had done this before. When he began to drop kisses down her throat, he smiled as he heard her moan, and he thought that his brain might literally melt when she threw a leg around his hips and arched into him. “Oh god, Sirius,” she gasped, “I love it when you do that.”  
  
He pulled his lips from her neck and looked into her eyes. “Then I’ll be sure to remember that for next time,” he smirked, brushing some of her wild brown hair from her face.  
  
She gave a slow smile in response, and Sirius could feel his heart beating like he was a gawky teenaged boy. She really was gorgeous. “Next time, eh?” she asked, a sly sparkle in her eyes. “I like the sound of that,” she murmured before she pulled his face to her own, sucking the air out of him as she kissed him within an inch of his life.  
  
He felt like he was drowning in her—her lips, her tongue and her breath. She pushed at his chest and soon he found himself lying back on the sofa with Hermione straddling his hips as she lay hot kisses on the base of his throat, chuckling as he let out a series of moans as she nipped at the hot skin she found. It wasn’t until she began to kiss his chest that he realized that she was unbuttoning his shirt. And, as much as it killed him, he knew that he had to stop her.  
  
“Hermione,” he whispered, grabbing her hands. “Sweetheart, you’ve got to stop.”  
  
Her hands stilled and she sat up on his hips, an adorably puzzled look on her face. “Stop?” she repeated, her eyebrows furrowed. “You want me to stop?”  
  
Sirius exhaled and wished that she would find a better spot to sit on. “Yes?” he answered, wishing that it hadn’t sounded like a question. But then, he wasn’t in the habit of stopping beautiful young women from undressing him.  
  
“But... stop? I don’t understand. Didn’t you like it?” she asked, a slight tinge of hurt coloring her voice.  
  
“Oh god, please don’t be upset,” he rushed to reassure her, moving her so that they were both sitting up on the sofa. “Believe me, I liked it. Quite a lot. But Hermione, you’re drunk. I can’t do this when you’re like this.”  
  
“I’m not _that_ drunk!” she protested, pouting in such a way the he wanted to suck on her lower lip.   
  
_Get a hold of yourself!_ “Yes, sweetheart, you are. And believe me, if you were even a little less drunk, I may not have stopped myself. But as it is, you _are_ , and I did. Stop myself, that is.” Sirius realized that he was babbling, but he had no idea of what to do. Hermione Granger was all sorts of uncharted territory where he was concerned.  
  
Hermione let out a loud “hmmph!” of disgust and plopped back against the sofa cushions and crossed her arms in front of her chest. If he wasn’t so turned on and confused, Sirius would have burst out into laughter. “This is so… just… _unfair_!” she grumped and pouted again. "The first time, you’re too drunk and you pass out! And now you say that _I’m_ too drunk!"  
  
 _Oh my god. What does a stroke feel like? Am I having a stroke?_ Sirius just sat in dumbfounded silence before he recovered enough of his wits to speak. “Um, Hermione? The _first_ time? _I_ was too drunk?”  
  
She turned to him, a bit of a smirk on her face. “I knew you didn’t remember.”   
  
He continued to sit there, thinking that it was horribly unfair that he had gotten to kiss Hermione Granger and didn’t even remember having done it. He looked at her, seeing the smirk still on her face. “Oh. Well. So. How was it?”  
  
She let out a peal of laughter, and her eyes twinkled. “Frustrating,” she answered as she began to move closer to him. “I hate not finishing things. I’m very goal-oriented, you know,” she practically purred before somehow managing to situate herself right onto his lap.  
  
While his lap seemed more than pleased with her position, his brain was starting to panic again. “Hermione, please, you’ve got to sto—” he tried to get the words out, but he had suddenly discovered that when your left earlobe is being suckled by a wonderfully talented girl, speech is no longer a viable option.  
  
“Don’t worry so much, Sirius,” she breathed into his ear and then chuckled at the obvious irony of _her_ saying such a thing to _him_. “I know you don’t really want me to stop,” she whispered as she rubbed herself against his erection.  
  
This was clearly a divine punishment, he knew that for certain. Punishment for having cheated death and coming back from the Veil. “No, Hermione, I need you to stop,” he finally ground the words out of his mouth, wishing that the pride he felt at his amazing restraint could in some way make up for how horribly disappointing this entire experience was.  
  
Luckily, she finally stopped doing that _thing_ with her tongue and his collarbone and sat back, looking clearly into his eyes. “Why?” she asked with a calm that he truly envied.  
  
“Because...” Why was it he needed her to stop, again? Oh yes... “Because you don’t know what you’re doing!”   
  
To his shock, she just laughed. At him. “Oh, Sirius. When have you ever known me to not know what I was doing?”   
  
“But—but—you’re drunk!” Ah, he was rather proud of himself. It was technically a sentence, after all.  
  
And she ruined his achievement by laughing again. “Really? I am?” She tilted her head to the side and studied him under lowered lids. He fought the urge to squirm uncomfortably. “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” she finally continued, and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m not _that_ drunk.”  
  
He grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her away to look at her face. She just sat there like the cat that got the canary. It was true. “You played me!” he exclaimed.  
  
She laughed again. “Well, I had to do _something_. You were just _staring_ at me and not _doing_ anything! If I hadn’t—”  
  
She had no chance of completing that sentence because she was suddenly flat on her back, with him on top of her and her mouth covered with his. And before she had time to really understand what was happening, she found herself completely naked. “Goodness, you’re fast,” she murmured as he kissed his way down between her breasts.  
  
“Only with some things,” he replied before taking one of her nipples into his mouth, causing her to gasp and arch against him.   
  
Her body was amazing. Smooth and toned and soft and hard in all the right places. He kissed and stroked and licked every inch of her, loving the hisses and gasps that he ripped out of her throat. When he settled on top of her, she couldn’t stop rubbing against him, and when he began to rub her clit with his long fingers she threw her head back and moaned and babbled his name as he suckled on her exposed neck. “Oh god, Sirius, that’s so, oh my GOD yes keep doing _that_ just like that, SIRIUS oh god harder, please!”  
  
And he just rubbed her clit over and over, occasionally dipping into her to coat his fingers with the slick wetness that kept pooling within her, steadily increasing the pace and pressure of his strokes until she screamed his name as she came. He just kissed her neck and shoulders and breasts as her body finally calmed itself. When she opened her eyes to turn a sated smile to him, he couldn’t help but grin back at her. “Oh, Sirius,” she sighed, making him ridiculously proud that he had caused her to say his name in such a satisfied way. “Why are you still wearing all your clothes?”  
  
He laughed. “I wasn’t sure you had noticed. Though, I have to admit that I like the precedent we’re setting here. I think it may be best if you never wear clothes around me ever again.”  
  
“You’re a pig,” she giggled as she lightly slapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll have you know that I’m a modern woman, and what’s good for me is good for you. If you think that I’m just going to walk around starkers for your own amusement you’ve got another thing coming, and—Sirius! Put me down this instant!”  
  
“You always did talk too much,” he replied, smacking her ass lightly as he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her down the hall into her bedroom.  
  
“How romantic,” she replied. “I always wanted to feel like a sack of potatoes,” she teased before he tossed her onto her bed.  
  
“Hush,” he admonished her with a sly smile as he made quick work of the buttons on his shirt.  
  
“Hush?” she repeated, her eyebrow quirked as an arch smile crossed her lips.  
  
“Yes,” he answered, pulling off the rest of his clothes before pausing, as if lost in thought. “Though… I think a _few_ key phrases should be allowed. ‘Oh, Sirius!’ is rather a good one. As well as ‘Dear God, Sirius, that’s fucking amazing!’ Oh, and ‘Harder’ is always welcome. As are general moans and panting. And, of course, just screaming my name in ecstasy is always a good way to go.”  
  
Hermione crawled up to the edge of the bed, and rising up on her knees, wrapped her arms around his neck. “Would you like to be alone with yourself, now?” she asked with a smirk. “I could give you a mirror so that you could watch yourself as you go about your business.”  
  
He let out a loud laugh and she pulled him onto the bed, so that he was lying back and she moved on top of him. “If you _really_ think that I talk too much, I suppose I could do some other things with my mouth,” she grinned at him before she began to kiss her way down his body. And soon, he found that he was the one having difficulty with words as she teased him with her tongue and lips. When she dipped her tongue into his belly button he gasped and tensed, causing her to chuckle before lowering her mouth onto his swollen cock.  
  
“Oh, fucking god Hermione, holy shit,” he babbled as she worked her full lips and tongue over the sensitive head, one hand firmly stroking the shaft as her other hand fondled his balls.  
  
Just before he was about to come, she stopped altogether, and crawled back up his body to kiss him, her tongue working his mouth as thoroughly as she had worked his cock. When she finally pulled away, he was breathless, staring up at this amazing young woman who had turned his entire world upside down in one evening. “How do you like my mouth now?” she asked, an arch smile on her lips.   
  
He just laughed and shook his head. “No one likes a cocky smartass,” he answered, only to have her take his cock in her hand and suddenly settle her pussy down around him, enveloping him in her hot wetness.  
  
“Fuck!” he shouted out in the dark room and he was sure his eyes had rolled into the back of his head.  
  
“Hush,” she replied, echoing his own words, and he opened his eyes to see her straddling him, an expression of lustful concentration on her face as she began to work her hips slowly, up and down, back and forth, ripping unintelligible moans from his throat. “I’ve been thinking about this for a month. You’ve only had one night.”  
  
“Well, then,” he gasped as he settled his hands onto her hips. “I’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”  
  
She smiled down at him, her brown eyes almost black with lust and began to move harder, his hands guiding her to slam on top of him, again and again.   
  
Her heat was intoxicating, and he felt himself getting lost inside her. He rubbed her clit as she began to ride him in earnest, her head thrown back as she repeated his name over and over. “Oh god, Sirius, you feel so good, I’ve wanted you in me for so long now,” she moaned, driving him even more insane with lust.  
  
In almost a frenzy, he pulled her to him and rolled them over so that he was soon pounding into her, her screams of “harder!” and “fuck yes, dear god, Sirius!” making him hotter with need than he remembered being in a very long time. And, when he pulled her legs so that her ankles rested on his shoulders, she screamed again. “Oh god, Sirius, oh good _god!_ No one has ever fucked me so hard! Oh god, don’t stop! Your cock, it feels so good, Oh fuck!” she babbled incoherently, and as each obscenity was pulled out of her, he pounded into her harder and harder, moaning her name with each thrust, until he felt her body tense as she shouted out her release, her cunt throbbing around him. The feel of it around him was so intense that after a few more thrusts, he soon followed her into climax, his orgasm spurting his come again and again into her, until he practically fell on top of her, his body spent and sated beyond belief.  
  
He finally removed himself from her and rolled over, pulling her to him as she brushed his long hair away from his face and planted gentle kisses on his brow and jaw and neck. He smiled and pulled her even more tightly to him, losing his hands in her wild curls.  
  
He pulled the covers around them and settled her in beside him, pulling at her until he was satisfied with how completely she was wrapped around him. She didn’t seem to mind, and just smiled as she settled into her position and closed her eyes.  
  
“Hermione?” he whispered to her, just before they finally let exhaustion overtake them.  
  
“Mmm?” she answered as best she could.  
  
“Next time we go to Poland? Remind me to thank those Woodgoblins.” And he gave her one last kiss on the forehead and followed her into sleep.

The End. 


End file.
